Their voices were quiet, but I could tell the man and woman were arguing. She seemed calm and dispassionate. He was full of rage. They were sitting near me Monday evening.
His angry words got louder. Finally, he stood and glared down at her.
“I don’t care what you think of me,” he said loudly. “I don’t need you or your approval!”
And then he stalked out of the restaurant, never looking back.
I knew he was lying, but I have no idea whether he knew that. If he hadn’t cared about the woman’s approval, he wouldn’t have been so angry. He wouldn’t have protested so strongly. And if he really hadn’t cared what she thought of him, he wouldn’t be a normal human being.
I’ve been fighting this battle all my life. I don’t want to care what anybody else thinks about me. I don’t want my actions to be shaped by fear of being hurt by your disapproval. I’ve often lied to myself and I’ve sworn I didn’t care.
I don’t want to need you, but I do. I don’t want to crave your approval, but I do.

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